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From: "Declan" <declan@declanstanley.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Alexandra Ch.2 (Romantic Erotica)
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Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2007 10:10:02 -0500
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Alexandra Chapter 2

On Friday I arrived about fifteen minutes early and stood on the 
street anxiously looking up and down, unsure as to which direction 
she'd come from. Under the clock outside Easons bookshop on O'Connell 
Street is a popular place to arrange to meet. Firstly it is a well 
known landmark. Secondly it is in a fairly busy and public place. And 
thirdly from the point of view of anyone waiting there are a number of 
buses that stop there, so you can pretend that people are not looking 
at you wondering if you have been stood up, and instead convince 
yourself that they think that you are just waiting for a bus.

Then just as the clock above me began to chime the half hour I saw her 
walking up from the direction of Abbey St. My heart stopped.

She was wearing a blue cardigan with a matching cotton top and long, 
flowing skirt, with sandals on her feet. Her long black hair and skirt 
were blowing in the breeze and she smiled as she saw me. I fell in 
love with her again. She was just so beautiful it took my breath away. 
And my heart started pounding in my chest.

"Hi," I said, restraining myself from grabbing her and hugging her off 
her feet. "How are you?"

"Hi," she smiled. "I'm fine." She shrugged, "A bit tired from work, 
but you don't want me to go into that."

I wanted her to go into everything. I wanted to know how she spent 
every minute of every day of her life. But I couldn't tell her that. 
So instead I just nodded and smiled.

"So," I gestured with my arm and started to walk towards O'Connell 
Bridge. She walked beside me. "There's a French film on in the Screen 
cinema that I thought you might like to see." I probably knew the name 
of it at the time, but I can't remember what it was now.

She nodded, "That sounds nice."

"Do you mind," I slipped my hand into hers.

"No," she smiled and squeezed it gently.

My heart leapt and my grin became ten feet wide.

"So you had a bad day in work then," I said.

"Yes," she sighed. "My boss gave me this load of stuff the other day, 
that he said he didn't want until next week. Then this afternoon he 
comes around looking for it. And got really annoyed when I didn't have 
it done." She stopped herself and smiled at me, "But then this is our 
first date, you don't want me bitching about work."

I just wanted to hear her speak, I didn't care what she talked about. 
"Not really," I agreed.

It was a bit early for the film so we went into a pub for a drink 
first. I had a vodka, as drinking a pint before going to a film 
usually spoils the second half as by that time I'm usually dying to go 
to the toilet. She had a rum and coke. We sat by a window and were 
bathed with late evening light filtered through the frosted glass. The 
sounds of the city traffic could be faintly heard from the outside.

We talked about this and that for a few minutes. I was half turned 
towards her with my arm on the back of the seat. She sat close to me 
with her legs crossed and her hands hooked over her knee. As we talked 
I took hold of her left hand. She smiled at me and squeezed it down 
into her lap. We slowly finished our drinks as she caressed my hand in 
her lap and I toyed with her hair, rubbing it across her neck and 
shoulder.

We stayed a little too long in the pub and when we arrived in the 
cinema it was quite full. But we managed to find two seats together in 
the middle of a row that was not too near the screen.

"So have you done much writing recently?" she asked as we sat down.

I sat beside her. "No I seem to have a terminal case of writer's 
block," I sighed.

"Well I'm sure it'll pass," she looked around the cinema.

"Yeah. But I keep getting itchy fingers, and thinking that I should be 
at home doing some work instead of being out enjoying myself," I 
explained.

"Well you might get some inspiration tonight," she looked back at me.

I laughed. "Inspiration ! That's the last thing I need. I've got 
inspiration coming out my ears. What I need is to get some writing 
done. Not an idea for yet another story."

"Surely you need inspiration before you know what story to write," she 
said.

"I've got ideas for five novels and about fifteen short stories that 
I've haven't written. And probably never will," I replied. "I don't 
need any more."

"Oh," she said softly.

"Anyway," I smiled. "Inspiration is supposed to come from inside me, 
or from my own observations, not from copying other people's work. You 
wouldn't want me to plagiarise now, would you?"

"Of course not," she smiled back.

Yes I used to be that touchy about my writing.

Then the lights dimmed and the audience hushed as the projector sprang 
into action.

"Do you mind if I'm assertive," I whispered as I slipped my arm around 
her shoulders.

"Please do," she relaxed against me.

Normally when I put my arm around a girl I rest my hand on the outside 
of her shoulder, because if you droop your arm over her shoulder your 
hand almost inevitably comes to rest on her breast. Which is usually a 
bit too forward for a first date. But with Alexandra I found my elbow 
came to comfortably rest just past her neck and my hand brushed 
against her breast before I knew it. I pulled it away and didn't know 
what to do with it for a moment. But Alexandra came to my rescue. She 
solved my dilemma by taking my hand in her's, so we were actually 
holding hands and being intimate without me grouping her. Then she did 
something which I shall always remember. All through the film she ran 
her other hand up and down my forearm. Stroking the hairs on my arm 
and producing a sensation which made me shake with anticipation.

The film was a French romantic comedy about the director of a yoghurt 
company who falls in love with the cleaning lady at his office. She 
discovers a plot by one of the managers, who is also having an affair 
with the director's wife, to unseat him and take over the company. 
There was lots of intrigue, good one liners and even some social 
commentary, all rapped up in a fast moving plot, before we got the 
happy ending.

All in all it was quite a good film, but it was turned into a 
masterpiece because I saw it with my arm around Alexandra.

As we were coming out of the cinema I asked, "So where to now, 
Alexandra?"

"I know a nice pub up towards where I live," She waved in more or less 
the correct direction. "But I can't remember its name."

"That's OK," I said as I took her hand in mine. "Lets go." And we 
walked over to the pedestrian crossing to cross the busy traffic 
coming down Pearse Street.

We talked about the movie as we walked towards the pub, but by the 
time we reached the gates of Trinity College in College Green we'd 
both said how much we'd liked it a good few times and had told each 
other what the best bits had been and there was a lull in the 
conversation.

As we walked up Grafton St. I looked at a clock and realised that it 
was five to eleven. The pubs closed at eleven. I pointed this out to 
Alexandra.

"Don't worry we'll make it," she started to walk faster.

As we reached the top of Grafton St. and crossed into Stephen's Green 
I became more and more anxious. I don't know why, I mean it wouldn't 
have been the end of the world if we didn't get a drink.

"So where's this pub then?" I asked knowing that the nearest pubs were 
in Wexford St. or Camden St., both of which seemed a long way with 
only a few minutes to closing time.

"At the top of Camden St," she replied.

"Hold on," I stopped, and because we were holding hands pulled her to 
a stop. "Is it anywhere near Cassidy's?"

"Cassidy's," she smiled. "Yeah, that's the place."

"We'll never make it," I said.

"Well where else can we go?"

"There's got to be somewhere down Grafton St." I searched my memory. 
"I know," I turned around and we headed back down towards Davey 
Byrne's.

We rushed down and managed to get there before the doors closed. I 
asked her what she wanted and fought my way to the bar through the 
last-orders rush.

I got the drinks and fought my way back out to find Alexandra had 
found the one remaining free barstool. As I handed her drink I 
realised that with her sitting on the stool I could look her straight 
in the eye.

I smiled at her.

She smiled back. "Cheers," she raised her drink and took a sip.

I took a sip from mine.

"This is nice," she look around at the décor. "Have you been here 
before."

"Once or twice," I said. "I don't often drink in this part of town."

"Oh," she smiled. "And what part of town do you normally drink in."

"Well," I confessed. "It's usually Camden St. after Camera Club 
meetings."

We laughed. And as I lent forward I put my hand on her shoulder.

"So when's your last bus?" She sipped her drink.

"Oh don't worry about that," I wondered if that was a gentle hint that 
I wouldn't be going back to her place.

I sipped my drink.

"I'll walk you home if you like," I suggested causally.

"OK," she smiled back. "That'd be nice."

And I thought, Hey shit ! She really likes me, then.

I put my foot on the bottom rung of her stool and stroked her hair. As 
I turned to take another drink and she ran her fingers across my head.

"Hey, it's soft," she continued to rub my spiky hair.

"Well of course it is," I said, wondering why she would think that my 
hair wouldn't be soft.

"I thought that you gelled it or something," she continued, stroking 
my hair.

"No," I smiled. "It's all natural. That's just the way it grows."

"And the way you brush it," she moved her hand down onto my face. 
"Hmm, you didn't shave tonight."

"Yes I did," the sensation of her hand on my cheek was sending shivers 
through my body and they all seemed to be gathering in my balls. "I 
shaved before coming out tonight."

"Oh," she said. "It seems so rough."

"I'm just such a 'macho' man," I smiled.

She smiled back. Then realising that we were in a public place she 
snatched her hand away and took a sip from her drink.

We talked for another ten or fifteen minutes, but I can't really 
remember what we said. All I remember is the irresistible desire she 
held for me. There was a huge passion for her building up inside me.

We finished our drinks and left. We were among the first to go after 
they stopped serving. I took her hand as we walked back up Grafton St.

"So where do you live?" I asked, wondering if we were going to have to 
get a taxi.

"I live in Synge St.," she replied.

"Oh," I said. "Just around the corner from the Camera Club."

"Yes," she smiled. "And my office is in Harcourt St."

"What?" I smiled back. "You only have a five minute walk to work every 
day."

"Yes, it's dead convenient," she looked at me.

"It's not some grotty little bedsit, is it?" I asked.

"No it's quite nice," she assured. "I've a very good landlord in this 
place."

"You mean you haven't always?" I teased.

"No," she replied. "I've lived in my fair share of grotty bedsits."

"And now you've found a nice place, that's convenient for both work 
and the Camera Club, you're going to settle down for a while?" I 
asked.

"Well yes," she sounded doubtful. "But you do get fed up looking at 
the same four walls all the time."

"Oh," I asked. "Are you planning on moving soon?"

"Well, usually I do," she said. "But where I am now is so good I'd 
have problems finding another like it for the same price."

We continued talking about the poor quality of affordable 
accommodation in Dublin as we walked. I told her about my own 
experiences and pointed out that I had found it just as bad when I had 
lived in London. Then we reached her house. I thought that she might 
turn to kiss me good night and not invite me in. But without a word 
she opened the door and walked in. I followed, closing the door behind 
me. She led the way to the back of the house to the entrance of her 
flat.

As you walked in there was a tiny entrance hall, where we hung our 
coats. With a door directly ahead that led into the bathroom and a 
door to the right that led to the main room. In the main room her bed 
was against the right hand wall, a small table and two chairs on the 
left, with the kitchen set in an alcove "behind" the bathroom. There 
was also a couple of armchairs, some bookcases and a wardrobe crammed 
in.

"I'll make us some coffee," she headed towards the sink.

I sat on one of the armchairs and asked, "Do you mind if I make myself 
more comfortable, by taking off my shoes."

"No," she smiled. "Feel free."

So I did.

She called over. "I won't need to put on a gas mask, will I?"

"No," I laughed. "I spend most of my day with my shoes off so there 
isn't time for the smell to build up."

We laughed and there was comfortable silence for a couple of minutes 
as the kettle came to a boil.

I looked at her as she moved in the small galley kitchen. The arch of 
her arm as she reached up to take two cups from a shelve. The swing of 
her hips as she turned to take a jar of coffee from a press. The tilt 
of her head as she spooned the coffee into the cups. Her tongue 
caressing her upper lip as she was careful not to spill anything.

The kettle clicked off and with a polished grace she poured the water 
into the cups and gave each a quick stir. Her back was towards me and 
I could see her shoulders shake as she stirred.

She turned and I quickly looked away.

She came over with two steaming cups. "Here you go," she handed one to 
me.

"That was quick," I said.

"Yes," she put her's down on the floor. "I got an express kettle a 
couple of months back and it's really brilliant."

She sat on the floor with her back against the other armchair and 
kicked off her sandals. We sipped coffee and chatted about the films 
we'd seen and about photography for a while. She sat back and looked 
up at me. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and looked down 
at her. Then I figured enough polite social interaction had passed.

I put my half finished coffee down beside the leg of my chair where it 
wouldn't be in the way. Then slid onto the floor beside her. I gently 
took her cup from her and put it beside mine. Then I slipped my left 
arm around her shoulders once more. She leaned into me and turned to 
kiss. Her lips opened and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. She put 
her arms around me and I put my right hand to the back of her head.

We kissed for a while, then I slowly moved my hand down to touch her 
left breast. She didn't object, so I gently massaged as we continued 
to kiss. A few minutes later we came up for air and I started to 
unbutton her cardigan. She smiled as I worked my way down the buttons, 
then pushed it open and put my hand back onto her breast.

I could feel the heat of her body through the thin cotton and her 
nipple pushing through her bra. She hugged me closer and we started to 
kiss again. I could feel her soft breast under my hand, with its 
nipple rubbing against my palm. I could taste her as we kissed. Feel 
my arm around her, her arms around me, our bodies close. I was in 
heaven for the next few minutes.

Then she sat up and moved a couple of feet away from me to take off 
her cardigan. I knelt on the floor beside her and put my arms around 
her waist. She reached up to my chest and started to unbutton my 
shirt. She slipped her hands inside and ran them around my body. I 
leaned forward and we kissed. A few minutes later she was nuzzling my 
right shoulder and I was licking and kissing her ear. I was feeling 
decidedly heated and had developed a serious erection.

Moving back slightly I pulled my shirt out of my jeans and slipped it 
off. She sat up, her hands still on me. We smiled at each other. I 
started to take off my shirt and she took her hands away. When I'd 
pulled it off and tossed it away I noticed that she was looking at me 
with a strange expression on her face. I'm not exactly rambo, I know, 
but there was enough hormones flowing that it didn't make much 
difference.

Putting my arms around her, I leaned close to start kissing again. She 
froze for a moment, then her lips opened and her tongue slid out. Her 
arms roamed up and down my back and we held each other close. I could 
feel the heat of her body as I held her. I could feel her breasts 
pressing against me as I hugged her. I could feel her arms on my naked 
body.

I pulled back. "So," I whispered. "Does this come off," I ran my hand 
along the neck of her top.

She smiled and shook her head, "No."

OK, I thought this is as far as it goes. I was disappointed, but not 
overly so. I'd never had sex on a first date before and hadn't really 
expected to have it now.

I don't know if she was feeling adventurous, or if she just took pity 
at the look of disappointment that must have come across my face, but 
she added softly, "But it does pull up."

I looked at her and she smiled.

I said, "Yes?" And smiled back.

"Yes," she replied and pulled it out of the waist band of her skirt 
and up to reveal her breasts cupped in their white cotton bra.

I was mesmerised. Slowly I put my finger tips to each breast. They 
were so sweet. The skin so soft, yet the flesh firm underneath. I 
spread my fingers across them and pressed my palms against her 
nipples. Then I pressed down under and gently pushed them up within 
her bra. I glanced up at her face. She was beaming at me. So I lent 
forward and kissed the soft exposed flesh. I ran my lips and tongue 
back and across them, then moved down to the cotton of her bra and 
kissed the nipples hidden below.

She shivered in my arms. I hooked my arms around under her top and 
moved my mouth up to kiss her. As I opened my mouth her tongue slid 
past my lips. Her warm body was pressed against mine. Our tongues 
worked in sync. Her hands raced up and down my back. My arms wrapped 
around and pulled her close.

Her fingers dug into my back and my face was buried in her hair. With 
my lips I could feel the heat of her naked skin neck and shoulder 
underneath the tangle of her hair. Her breath was hot and moist on my 
ear. We hugged each other as close as we could. The we pulled back to 
look at each other.

"So," I ran my hands across her cotton covered breasts. "Does this 
pull up as well?" I looked up at her.

She smiled and nodded yes.

"Yes?" I smiled back. And gestured with my hand.

She reached around and unhooked her bra. I ran my finger tips up from 
her waist and under her loosened bra to touch her soft, warm breasts. 
My fingers circled underneath the firm muscle. I ran my thumbs over 
her erect nipples and she sighed. So I pushed her bra up, bent down 
and kissed her left nipple. I ran my tongue across it, next my lips, 
then I opened my mouth wide and sucked as much as I could inside.

Her hands gripped my head and shoulder and she clenched and unclenched 
her fingers as I worked away. I switched from left to right breast and 
back again. Using my fingers and tongue and lips in all sorts of 
combinations. Then she put her hands onto the front of my shoulders 
and pushed me back. I looked up. She smiled at me. Then she pulled 
down her top and moved away to sit with her back against the bed.

"So, how far do you want to go?" I asked as I moved beside her and put 
my left arm around her shoulders.

"I think you better go now," she whispered.

I kissed her and she responded.

I thought, now don't do anything foolish to spoil it, Kevin. Just take 
it slow and gentle. Don't push beyond where she wants to go. I had 
this fear that my desire would get the better of me and I'd end up 
raping her.

I put my hand up under her top and ran my fingers around her nipple. 
She lapped her tongue inside my mouth. Moving my hand down her body I 
found her belly button just under the waist of her skirt. I rubbed my 
fingers in and around it, but she wasn't very sensitive there.

Our mouths and tongues still intertwined I pulled my hand out from 
under her waistband and moved it down to her leg. I felt her thigh 
under the thin material of her skirt. And as I ran my hand up and down 
I slowly moved from the top to the inside of her thigh. She let her 
legs open wider. I brushed my fingers lightly across her crotch and 
found that she was very hot.

We were still kissing so I ran my hand back down the inside of her 
thigh and started to pull up her skirt. I pulled it up to reveal her 
knee and pressing my fingers against her skin pushed it right up to 
totally expose her leg and discovered that she was wearing white 
cotton panties.

All my attention was focused on her vagina now. I was looking down, so 
I know I wasn't kissing her. But I don't know if she was still kissing 
me, or if her arms were around me, or what she was doing. I think she 
was probably not doing anything.

I put my finger tips onto her warm, damp panties and felt her open 
lips beneath. I pressed my finger against them and traced her slit. 
She gasped. Taking hold of the edge of her panties I pulled at them, 
but there was no give. So I took hold of the top and pulled them down 
slightly to loosen them. Then I slipped my fingers into the leg of her 
panties and ran them back down and under to touch her directly.

Her lips parted and my finger was inside her. I pushed my finger down 
and then back up to find her clitoris. Her mouth was on mine and our 
tongues found each other again. I pressed harder. She tilted her head 
back I gently chewed her throat. She sat up and turned to face me. My 
hand lost its place, so I ran both hands up along her sides to push up 
her top and reveal her breasts again.

She leaned forward to kiss me and I cupped both her breasts. Her head 
moved in rhythm with my tongue, her body with my hands. Then I slipped 
my left hand around to hold her close and bent down so I could work 
both hand and mouth on her left breast. She lent forward and I pressed 
my hand between her legs again.

I had my back against the bed now, so I just lay back against it as 
she started to rub herself against my fingers. I was in a sensual 
haze. All my attention was centred on the movement of her clitoris 
against my fingers. The smell, the dim lighting, the heat and weight 
of her leaning over me was the background against which I rubbed her.

Her rhythm stopped and she tensed and pressed down, her arm across my 
throat, as she tilted her head back and moaned.

Then she sat down on her knees in front of me and smiled. I let my 
hand drop and relaxed against the bed. I had the strangest feeling. It 
was a pleasant sort of contentment, as if I'd come myself, though I 
hadn't.

She slipped her bra straps off her arms, pulled it from under her top 
and tossed onto the bed. "That was the perfect end to a perfect 
night," she glowed. "Thanks, Kevin."

One word stuck in my mind. "End"? What did she mean end? Surely this 
was just the beginning? But she was so happy and contented. And it was 
such a buzz to have made her so, that I thought, lets not spoil it by 
disagreeing. After all I didn't want to appear like I was one of those 
guys who were only interested in their own pleasure. Which, by some 
strange altruistic twist of logic, I figured I'd be if I asked for it, 
even though she'd clearly come first and was showing no intention of 
returning the compliment.

It was enough for me to have made her come. It was the first time I'd 
made love to a woman and I didn't want to spoil such the event by 
ending the night on a sour note. It would have been nice to have 
continued and even spent the night with her, but I hadn't even 
expected to get that far on the first date and I was more than 
satisfied. Having to ask for it would have ruined it.

I wasn't really thinking straight the fact of having made another 
person orgasm just blew my mind.

"So you don't want me to spend the night then?" was the most subtle 
and diplomatic thing I could think of saying.

"No," she giggled. "Of course not."

But even though I was trilled by having made her come I was still 
keyed up and aroused. And having the expectation of coming myself 
frustrated was hard to take.

"Come on get up," she pulled my arm roughly. "Up and out, Kevin."

So I had these two conflicting repercussions swimming around in my 
mind. On the one had I was over the moon that I'd made her come. On 
the other I was feeling dejected, and even rejected, by her not 
wanting to return the compliment.

Slowly I got to my feet and picked up my T-shirt. I pulled it on and 
she handed me my shirt. I buttoned it up and opened my jeans to tuck 
it inside and readjust my underpants, by this time my erection had 
returned to normal. I could feel her looking at me, but I didn't look 
back. I didn't want to leave, but it was preferable to overstaying my 
welcome.

I wanted to ask her if she loved me. But didn't speak. I wanted to ask 
her why she didn't want to do more. But didn't want to appear to be 
asking for it. I wanted to ask her why I couldn't stay. But it was 
enough that she didn't want to sleep with me.

So I pulled on my socks and tied up my shoes.

She was standing against the table as I looked up. I smiled at her and 
she smiled back. I walked cross to her and put my arms around her. She 
hugged me back and we kissed again. I ran my hands down to her bottom, 
gathered up her skirt and slipped my hand inside her panties. We 
hugged tightly. Then she pushed back a bit.

I looked at her and she dropped her hand to my crotch and smiled. I 
mirrored the gesture.

"Do you want to go again?" my voice was hoarse.

"Oh, no," she took her hand away and stepped back.

"Oh," I replied and could think of nothing else to do but to get my 
coat from the end of the bed. As I put it on I asked, "Do you want to 
go out again?" I looked around at her, "Like tomorrow or Sunday?"

"Emm," she looked down. "I don't know Kevin."

"If you give me your number I'll phone you," I smiled. The thought of 
having to ask for her phone number after we'd had sex appealed to my 
sense of irony.

She hesitated, "Tell you what, why don't you give me yours and I'll 
phone you."

"477217," I replied.

She turned to the table and scribbled on a pad. "OK," she straightened 
up. "I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Do I get yours?" I asked.

"Well it's very difficult to reach me," she said. "Especially at 
work." She paused. "I'm in and out all day long," she added.

"Oh, OK," there wasn't much else I could say.

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway to unlock the door to 
her flat.

I walked past and stopped to kiss her.

As we kissed goodnight. I squeezed her left breast with my right hand. 
It was a gesture to remind her what I'd just done, and to say I'd be 
back. It was also a mark of ownership. To show that I was close enough 
to her not to have to ask permission now.

I didn't consciously think that at the time. Then all I knew was that 
I was head-over-heels in love with her and that she seemed to love me 
back.

As I walked home those two conflicting feelings of elation and 
rejection worked their way through my mind. I reasoned that she didn't 
want to make love to me because she was shy, she was probably as 
inexperienced as I was, but hadn't read as many books nor seen as much 
pornography as I had. Anyway the thought of having made her come just 
blew my mind. I knew that she must really like me, if not actually 
love me, to have gotten so intimate with me.

I got home and climbed straight into bed. The smell and taste and feel 
of Alexandra was still with me. And recalling the events of the 
evening was as pleasurable as acting them had been, with one important 
addition. As I remembered the feel of Alexandra in my arms, my hands 
worked my erection. I savoured every little detail of my night with 
her. All my passion came back renewed. And when at last I came it 
seemed to go on for ever. It was the best masturbation I have ever 
done.

Afterwards I fell into a contented and exhausted sleep secure in the 
knowledge that the night had been a great start to my relationship 
with Alexandra. It was only much later that I realised what a disaster 
it really had been.

-------------
Copyright Declan Stanley. All rights reserved
http://www.DeclanStanley.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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